


Blood and Bone

by purplekitte



Category: Horus Heresy - Various Authors, Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Biting, M/M, Vampires, Violent Sex, Vore, sort of set during ruinstorm but not really spoilers of any note
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 06:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13852074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplekitte/pseuds/purplekitte
Summary: That Curze bit was a surprise to no one.





	Blood and Bone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kolosundil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kolosundil/gifts), [birdechoes](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=birdechoes).



That Curze bit was a surprise to no one. That was what filed, rotting teeth were _for_. That Sanguinius bit back was a surprise to him.

Sanguinius did not bite him to show he could give as good as he got, to show he was a warrior too and a better one, or out of a liking for rough play. He bit like an animal, like Curze was meat he intended to rip apart. Curze knew no fear, of death least of all, and having his throat ripped out by his brother, by this perfect, angelic brother in particular, would be a deliciously ironic death. So he laughed, though he saw no sign Sanguinius could hear his mockery, could hear anything.

Curze was not in the habit of being second best when it came to hurting someone or having to make a show of being able to keep up. He tore at Sanguinius’s wings with abandon. The feathers did not come away easy--they were deeply rooted and ripped out bloody, tearing ragged holes in the skin and muscle of the wing, breaking the little bones within. He brought a bloody hunk of meat and feather to his mouth. Pigeon had always tasted foul on Nostramo, but it wasn’t out of a love of keratin that he chewed on the mess.

Wings could be weapons as well, he was reminded when the snap of a wing broke an arm slung over Sanguinius’s shoulder to claw at his back. The pain was good, though, and even better was the gash Sanguinius opened in his chest, tearing away flesh from shoulder to sternum. His brother was more lovely like this than he ever could be decorated with mere rubies: blood dripping down his back, into his hair, running down his chin as he fed on Curze’s blood like he needed it for sustenance and he was _starving_. His sharp teeth tore into his arteries faster than they could heal, followed by the hungry suction of his mouth.

‘What can you see in my lifeblood, brother?’ he asked, though he knew madness too well to expect an answer. ‘Do you like it?’ He had no idea what had reduced his angelic brother to this, to an animal, to a slave of his own rage and hate and hunger, but it was vindicating to experience. They were all cursed. What was their father really that His sons were all _monsters_?

Curze reached down, shredding what little was left intact of Sanguinius’s bodyglove. His brother pinned him with his greater weight, but Curze had no intention of fighting strength with strength or cunning when he was exactly where he wanted. Sanguinius was hard against his stomach, for how could the hormones for one sort of lust not inspire others? Curze curled a hand around his length, claws digging in.

Sanguinius bucked against him, eager, want and want and want. Pain and blood were everything Curze was made for, and it seemed he and the Angel had more in common than the weight of destiny and of knowing. He had long since cast away restraint to be what he was, and like this, coming in his blood hand with shredded meat hanging from his teeth, he could see Sanguinius in what he was as well.

The only thing better, Curze thought as he was momentarily roused from his bleary-eyed healing coma some time later, was Sanguinius’ cry of despair when his scruples returned to him and he realised what he had done. Broken thing though Curze was, in his brother’s case he wouldn’t have minded if the breaking lasted forever and he never embraced who he really was. It was the most beautiful, and Curze smiled through broken teeth at the tragedy of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy wedding?


End file.
